Beautiful Jaguar…

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a jaguar.

A Jaguar Sighting by Joan Currie

There, in the twilight’s gentle hold,
A vision rare, a sight untold,
A jaguar sprang from leafy shade,
Its presence fierce, my steps delayed.

With eyes of blue, like summer skies,
It met my gaze with wild surprise,
A flash of light in twilight’s gloom,
A piercing fire, a sapphire bloom.

Upon its coat, the rosettes danced,
With markings clear, my heart entranced,
Not leopard’s spots, but nature’s art,
The jaguar’s strength and mystic heart.

It moved with grace, a specter bright,
Through verdant halls of fading light,
In silent awe, I stood alone,
To witness what the wild had shown.

When I was very young, my knowledge of animals: mammals, birds, fish, reptiles, and amphibians, was limited to identifying them in picture books – mostly associating the name of the creature with the first letter of its name, e.g. “J for Jaguar.” Although I studied them in biology class and watched a number of National Geographic and Nature documentaries over the years, my keen interest in animals came to me only recently. I am completely besotted with them now!

© Joan Currie – My J for Jaguar needlepoint pillow.

Beautiful Owls…

Tags

, , , ,

© Joan Currie – Detail of my watercolor painting of an owlet.

What the Owl Sees by Elizabeth Sears Bates

His velvet wing sweeps through the night :
With magic of his wondrous sight
He oversees his vast domain,
And king supreme of night doth reign.

© Joan Currie – My owl in flight watercolor after Jackie Morris

I heard the soft and soothing hooting of an owl several nights ago. Sadly, the owl decided not to stay but I took his presence as a sign of good luck!

© Joan Currie – Detail of my owl needlepoint in progress.

Beautiful Falcon…

Tags

, , , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My “F for Falcon” needlepoint – just finished and ready to be sewn into a nursery pillow.

The Windhover by Gerard Manley Hopkins

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

I have become fascinated with birds of prey in the last few months – the variations of hooked beaks and talons are particularly interesting. I will share my paintings once the raptor series is complete.

Beautiful Pears…

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My Red Pears oil painting on canvas.

The fruit tree heard that
the Bhagavad Gita
recommends surrendering

the fruits of action to God
and so he gently dropped his
pears into Mother Earth’s lap.

Because he did so,
pear seeds
made the world
much more pear-treed.

from Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 5

An Italian proverb states, “in bocca chiusa non cade pera,” – a pear will never fall into a closed mouth. But, to me, there is something about the shape, color, and texture of a pear that makes it almost too beautiful to eat!

© Joan Currie – My pears on linen oil painting.

Beautiful Tiger…

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of a tiger.

The Tyger by William Blake

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

I love to listen to audiobooks while I needlepoint or paint with watercolors. This week’s book by John Lithgow, The Poet’s Corner: The One-and-Only Poetry Book for the Whole Family, gave me six and a half hours of pure bliss! The author included recitations, biographical information, and analyses of over forty poets’ content, style, and language. William Blake’s “The Tyger” poem was included in the list and inspired my blogpost.

P.S. I continued thinking about tigers and wild cats in general these last few days and when I came across Rudyard Kipling’s book, Just So Stories, I couldn’t resist rereading a story from my childhood, “How the Leopard Got His Spots.” You might enjoy it, too!

Beautiful Yaks…

Tags

, , , ,

© Joan Currie. My continuous line drawing of a female yak.

The Yak by Hilaire Belloc

As a friend to the children commend me the Yak.
You will find it exactly the thing:
It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back,
Or lead it about with a string.

The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Tibet
(A desolate region of snow)
Has for centuries made it a nursery pet,
And surely the Tartar should know!

Then tell your papa where the Yak can be got,
And if he is awfully rich
He will buy you the creature—of else he will not.
(I cannot be positive which.)

© Joan Currie – My needlepoint of a Yak – ready to be sewn into a nursery pillow.

After Church when I was a child, my father would often take me and my siblings to visit the outdoor zoo in a park near where he grew up. The yaks‘ enclosure was a curiosity – I could never understand the game they played wherein the bigger yak climbed on top of the smaller one, and the smaller one never got a turn to do the same.

Beautiful Daffodils…

Tags

, , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My daffodil watercolor after G.D. Egret

Hidden From View by Joan Currie

In fields of gold where daffodils dance,
Their beauty shines in a fleeting glance.
But beneath the soil, where roots entwine,
Lurks a truth that’s less than divine.

For hidden from view, in the earth’s embrace,
Lie roots that tell of a different fate.
Though petals gleam in the sun’s warm light.
The roots betray a darker sight.

So too, do some, in the world’s gaze,
Appear as beauty in myriad ways.
But beneath the surface, unseen to most,
Lies a truth that’s harder to boast.

This morning, I noticed that the squirrels had uprooted my daffodil plants. As I gently pressed them back into the soil, I was struck by the contrast between the lovely, sunny blooms on top and the fine, twisted roots emerging from the bulb at the bottom.

© Joan Currie – Detail from my Portrait with Red Lips

I thought about how some people, too, present themselves as the picture of perfect beauty and loveliness but deep inside may lie a darker story – be it of heartache, grief, illness, or even a darkness of the soul.

© Rijksmuseum

Beautiful Making Textile Art With What You Have…

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

© Joan Currie – My wreath needlepoint on a black background ready to sew into a pillow,

Needlepoint Wreath by Joan Currie

In a tapestry of threads once left astray,
Lies the beauty of a wreath in shades arrayed.
With remnants of wool, a canvas they adorn,
A masterpiece born from what others scorned.

Each stitch a story of resilience and grace,
From discarded strands, a new life takes place.
In every cross and turn, a tale is spun,
Of transformation from what was undone.

What once lay idle, now blooms with delight,
A wreath of colors, a symphony of light.
So, the joy of creating from what’s been cast away,
Turning leftovers into art, day by day.

I wanted to stitch a needlepoint project using leftover tapestry wool from past efforts. This wreath was worked using a combination of Appleton, Paternayan (two strands only), and Elizabeth Bradley yarns. I did not have all the color matches for the pattern so I had to create my own colorway. I plan to sew it into a pillow with rose velvet ribbon piping and a black velvet backing.

I really like creating something beautiful from scraps, be it a needlepoint canvas or a quilt. These end up being my favorite pieces!

© Joan Currie. My small wreath needlepoint sewn into a pillow.

Beautiful Icelandic Sheepdog…

Tags

, , , ,

© Joan Currie – My watercolor painting of an Icelandic Sheepdog.

Anita’s Spirit by Joan Currie

In Reykjavik’s streets, where legends roam,
Anita, like a star, found her home.
With fur of black and white, a beauty rare,
A brown circle ’round her eye, beyond compare.

Energetic and alert, she caught my eye,
A playful spirit, reaching for the sky.
In her gaze, a spark, like twinkling stars,
I wished to take her home, to be mine.

Though now a pet, her spirit’s still free,
Anita, the Icelandic dog, with glee.
With every wag of her tail, a tale unfurled,
In my heart, she’ll forever be cherished, this world.

I admired this Icelandic Sheepdog in Reykjavik’s city center. Her name is Anita, after the Icelandic actress, Anita Briem. Oddly, she was only one of two pet dogs I saw in Iceland during my eight-day stay there. This breed dates back to the 800s when humans first came to Iceland. Anita seemed very eager and lively – I am sure she would have been a good sheep herder.

© Icelandic Kennel Club

Beautiful Easter…

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Detail of Sulphur Lily by Lilian Snelling 1936.

Redemptive Light by Joan Currie

In Easter’s light, redemption’s tale is told,
Through Christ’s sacrifice, salvation unfolds.
He bore the weight of sin upon the cross,
To free us from despair and endless loss.

In agony, he bore pain and strife,
That we may find the path to eternal life.
His wounds, a testament to love’s pure grace,
An offering of mercy in that sacred place.

With each nail driven, each thorn pressed deep,
He paved the way for us to rise and reap,
The blessings of forgiveness, freely given,
He triumphed over death, all sins forgiven,

So let us gather, hearts lifted high,
In gratitude for the gift of Christ’s reply.
Easter’s dawn brings hope and renewal bright,
As we walk in the glow of redemptive light.

Wishing you all a very Happy Easter! 💛 xo

My favorite Easter hymn below, “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.” Alleluia!